


We Dance Along

by elivigar



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, As in it happened in the past and it comes up, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Swearing, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elivigar/pseuds/elivigar
Summary: Calum’s lips curve into a smile, but it’s reserved in a way. For what, Michael’s not sure. “So…” he says.“So,” Michael echoes.“Do you… do you wanna talk about Sheffield?”(...)“What’s there to talk about?” Michael asks. “It happened, nothing we can do about it now.”Calum nods, running his teeth along his lip. “Okay, so… was it bad that it happened? Do you regret it?”
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	We Dance Along

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this tiny little thing was born because [Bella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess) aka [clumsyclifford](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com) said she wanted something Malum based on _Change My Mind_ by One Direction, and I was restless and wanted to do something, so I figured I'd indulge her. This is probably not at all what you had in mind, Bella, and I'm really sorry about that, but the words just happened, so... well, yk how it is. It's the shortest piece of crap I've ever written, but I hope someone enjoys it anyway♥ [Come talk to me on tumblr if you wanna!](http://ashtcnirwin.tumblr.com)

A passing car honks, and the sound makes Michael jump a feet farther in on the sidewalk. He frowns as he watches the car drive away, has half a mind to raise his finger at the back of it. Before he can decide on whether or not to be a petulant brat, however, Calum’s head drops onto his shoulder, effectively cutting off any and all irritated thoughts running through his mind.

“Swedish drivers are aggressive,” Michael mutters. “I was _on_ the damn sidewalk, wasn’t I?”

“Or you had one beer too many and you only thought you were on the sidewalk,” Calm says. Winding one arm around Michael’s waist, he pulls him in close, and nuzzles into his neck. “What time’s it?”

Leaning into Calum’s body, Michael shrugs. “Late. Three o’clock, maybe?”

“Hm,” Calum hums. “No show tomorrow, right?”

Michael shakes his head. “Monday, in Cologne.”

“And today is…?”

“Saturday, Cal,” Michael snorts. “How drunk are you?”

“Not very, I don’t think, just… tired,” Calum says.

They must look ridiculous, Michael thinks; two young men just standing on the sidewalk outside a hotel, clinging to each other like their lives are depending on it. And maybe they are, maybe they’re keeping each other grounded and present and mentally focused when their physical surroundings are an ever-changing blur that neither of them can control. Maybe that’s why Michael wraps an arm around Calum’s shoulders and lets Calum keep his face buried and hidden in Michael’s neck as they enter the hotel and find their way to the elevator.

Their rooms are on the fifth floor, but the elevator is fast, and the doors slide open before Michael’s even realised they’re moving upwards. Calum’s still hanging off him like a particularly clingy sack of potatoes as they make their way down the hallway towards their rooms. They reach Michael’s room first, and when he comes to a stop outside it, Calum’s only response is to tighten his hold and make a snuffling noise into Michael’s neck.

Biting his lip on a smile, Michael says, “Your room’s two doors down, Cal.”

“No, it’s empty,” Calum mumbles. “Don’t wanna.”

“Okay, what’s your plan of action, then?”

“To stay with you,” Calum says as he wraps his other arm around Michael. “Bed’s big enough.”

“Oh, so we’re nineteen again,” Michael says. “Gotcha.” Half-hearted protest aside, he manages to locate his keycard in his pocket and unlock the door, pushing it open with Calum obediently tracing his every step. His apparent reluctance to let go, even for a second, has something pinch at Michael’s heart strings, and said something persists as they walk over to the large bed.

“Is it okay that I sleep here?” Calum asks as he finally lets go of Michael in favour of falling onto the bed. He lands on his back, calves dangling off the edge of the bed, and props himself up on his elbows. And yeah, Michael sees then that Calum’s not particularly drunk. He is, however, tired, and remnants of the adrenaline from the show they played earlier are still glinting in his eyes, fiery and intense.

“Yeah, sure,” Michael says, and he finds himself smiling at the sight before him. “What kind of a date would I be if I refused you a spot in my bed at the end of the night, right?”

Calum grins, shaking his head, as he pulls his jumper off, leaving him naked from the waist up. “A date, huh?” he asks as he starts working on getting his slacks off.

“Well, everyone else left before midnight, and we just… carried on and had a good time,” Michael says as he starts shedding his own clothes. “Isn’t that a date?”

“Per definition, I’m pretty sure it’s not,” Calum says. He’s gotten his slacks off, and shuffles under the covers, hogging one of the fluffy pillows to slide under his head.

“Definitions here and definitions there,” Michael says dismissively. He’s gotten his t-shirt and jacket off, and with a bit of effort he manages to get his jeans and socks off as well before he gets into bed next to Calum. “You came home with me at the end of the night, didn’t you? That’s gotta count for something.”

“I asked if I could stay and you said yes,” Calum says, eyes fixed on Michael as he gets under the covers and finds a comfortable position. They’re on their sides, eyes trained on each other’s faces.

“I did say yes,” Michael says. “Like I said: That’s gotta count for something.”

Calum’s lips curve into a smile, but it’s reserved in a way. For what, Michael’s not sure. “So…” he says.

“So,” Michael echoes.

“Do you… do you wanna talk about Sheffield?”

Michael blinks. Sheffield. Right. A solid week ago. A show was played, a good show, and they had the next day off, so they went out. They drank, they danced, they stumbled into Calum’s hotel room when the bar closed. Luke was the first to say goodnight and head to his own room, then Ashton went an hour or so after, and left were Michael and Calum. Unwilling to go to his own room, Michael got in bed with Calum, and somewhere along the line, their bodies got entangled and they were touching each other all over. Michael remembers feeling panicked afterwards and he was halfway through getting up from the bed when Calum grabbed his arm and pulled him back, whispering, “Don’t leave. Please.”

Michael didn’t leave, because how could he?

It’s been over a week, and right now, in an anonymous hotel room in Stockholm, is the first time either of them has acknowledged what happened.

“What’s there to talk about?” Michael asks. “It happened, nothing we can do about it now.”

Calum nods, running his teeth along his lip. “Okay, so… was it bad that it happened? Do you regret it?”

Looking into the dark, earnest heat that is Calum’s eyes, Michael finds himself shaking his head against his pillow. It’s a barely-there movement, one that he can barely feel himself making. “No,” he says after a bit. “I don’t regret it. It was nice. And I… I liked that you asked me to stay after.”

Calum’s expression is inscrutable when he nods, just once. “I wanted to,” he says. “I didn’t want you to go. I liked having you there.” Pause. “I always do.”

It's a bit of a strain on his lungs when he inhales deeply, but Michael sticks with it, and he never breaks eye contact with Calum. Allowing the oxygen to fill his veins, making his toes prickle with the intensity of it, he shuffles an inch or two closer to Calum. “What…” He trails off, unsure of how to voice his thoughts despite the alcohol running through his body. Eventually, he manages to get out a quiet, “What does… does it mean anything?”

“I don’t know,” Calum says softly. He clutches onto the covers, pulls them a little further up over his chest as he appears to be thinking. “No offense, but I’ve never had those kinds of thoughts or feelings about you until what happened that night just… happened, but it did happen and now I don’t know where my mind’s at. We’re best mates, first and foremost, but…”

“But are we more?” Michael finishes for him, because he knows what Calum’s thinking. Or, he thinks he does, anyway, because the same thoughts have been running through his own head for the better part of the last week. 

It’s odd, is the thing, to have a close friend for several years, dating all the way back to their school days, and then to one day have something happen that alters the way one thinks about said friend. While Michael hasn’t kept a written journal to keep track of his every emotion over the last few years, he’s fairly certain that none of said emotions included non-platonic thoughts involving Calum. One drunken night out, one deep conversation while huddled under soft sheets, one mind-numbing round in bed. It was all it took for everything to be turned upside-down, and Michael doesn’t know if he finds it incredible, disturbing or just plain thought provoking.

“Yeah,” Calum whispers. “Friends or more?”

Michael attempts to offer Calum a reassuring smile, but he knows it appears as more of a deranged grimace than anything else. “I don’t know,” he says. “It kinda hit me over the head, too. One minute it was all friendly banter and talking shit, and the next…”

“And then we were naked,” Calum says, chuckling. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Michael says. He hesitates for a moment, considering the situation, wondering what’s hidden under Calum’s wide eyes, before he opens his mouth again. “It was nice, though. Wasn’t it? It was good. It was for me.”

Calum smiles at that, and without saying a word, he closes in the remaining distance between himself and Michael, pressing their foreheads together. Placing a tentative hand on Michael’s waist, above the covers, he says, “It was good for me, too. Really good.”

Closing his eyes, Michael brings a hand up to cup Calum’s jaw where it’s resting on his shoulder. Calum’s skin is warm and soft and, more importantly, familiar, and Michael inhales shakily. “Good,” he says as he drags his thumb slowly along Calum’s chin. “You’re staying here for the night, yeah?”

Calum puffs out a laugh through his nose. The air fans over Michael’s shoulder. “I’m in bed in nothing by my underwear, so… yeah, that was the idea,” he says.

Michael nods, and it makes the side of his head rub against Calum’s. “Good,” he mumbles. “I want you to stay. I don’t… know what this is. It’s new and it’s…”

“It’s scary as hell,” Calum supplies, and it comes out with a choked laugh. He draws an audible breath, then his lips are brushing against Michael’s jaw in a ghostly kiss. “I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m sorry if I make shit awkward now, but I… I’ve never felt like this, and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not, but… something’s changed, hasn’t it?”

Returning the kiss with a soft graze against Calum’s cheek, Michael feels his heart beat in his throat, in his stomach, in his diaphragm. “It has,” he whispers as he bumps his nose against Calum’s. He feels more than hears the ragged breath that Calum draws, and it makes his already erratic pulse speed up even more.

“I have no idea when it actually happened, but I don’t think it was that night in Sheffield,” Calum says, voice barely audible. “It probably started sooner, but I don’t know when and it’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but I… I’m right there with you,” Michael says as he digs the tips of his fingers into the small of Calum’s back. Sighing audibly, Calum nudges one leg between Michael’s, and Michael tightens his hold around Calum.

“Can I…” Calum’s question falls short, but his lips are creating a soft, dry trail along Michael’s neck, past his jawline, and then his lips are hovering over Michael’s.

Closing his eyes, Michael nods jerkily, and while he knows what’s coming, it still hits him like a ton of bricks when Calum’s lips connect with his. They’re both almost naked and their bodies are attached in every way imaginable, but somehow, the kiss remains soft and sweet. Michael’s fingers are shaking as he combs through Calum’s hair, and Calum sighs into it. It might be twenty seconds, or it might be twenty minutes, but eventually they pull apart, and Michael can’t help but laugh. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, doesn’t know what fuels it, but it feels good, and maybe that’s all they need.

“I don’t know what this is,” Calum says, his lips moving against Michael’s for each word. “And I don’t know what to do about it, and I don’t know what it’s gonna be tomorrow, but-”

“I don’t know either, but I’m not gonna change my mind,” Michael cuts in. Pressing another kiss to Calum’s lips, he inhales deeply through his nose. “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

Calum nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay,” Michael echoes. “Sleep now?”

“Please,” Calum chuckles. “I’ve been ready for sleep since after the show.”

Michael merely hums in response, tugging Calum even closer, but he wonders when the idea of sleeping with Calum in his arms became so much more pleasant than sleeping alone.

They’ll figure it out. They always do.


End file.
